


Vitae Reginae

by Leuny (Aibhilin)



Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Five Stages of Grief, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, More tags to be added at a later date, Non-Canonical Character Death, Not Beta Read, please let me know if I forgot any
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23064430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aibhilin/pseuds/Leuny
Summary: Four shots, that was all it took. Based on a real-life event, this is something that I had to deal with personally. I put the rating on M, to be on the safe side. Contains violence, Character death.This is one of those fanfics that I pulled over from ff.net. As such, the tags on ff.net were as follows:Magic Kaito/まじっく快斗 - Rated: M - English - Crime/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 2 - Words: 8,189 - Reviews: 1 - Updated: 12/25/2012 - Published: 12/25/2012 - Kaito K., Chikage K. - CompleteI'm sorry to say that I won't be correcting any grammar/spelling mistakes in this one any time soon.
Relationships: Kudou Yukiko & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kuroba Chikage & Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid, Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid & Nakamori Ginzou, Kuroba Kaito | Kaitou Kid & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 4





	1. Vitae Reginae

**Vita Reginae**

**Disclaimer** : Nothing belonging to me – not even much of the plot bunny. I have mangled it and changed it beyond recognition, but I can't wholeheartedly say that even the action belongs to me.

**AN:** _Dear reader_ ,

This is something that I have had to deal with for quite some time – and only now managed to finish. It is somewhat of a violent, sad story that I based on something that happened for _real_ to me, just this year.

This can be seen as a sort-of maybe kinda prequel to _Tea, Anyone?_ , but it can also be a stand-alone oneshot, as I originally intended it to be. The sorta-maybe-kind-of prequel can be read in the next chapter (which is simply the same story, but with an extra at the end)

My life has had a lot of things to offer that I definitely would rather have done without this year, so I implore you, dear readers, to take everything in stride and play the waiting game for my other fanfictions for a little bit longer. I shall continue writing as per usual, though I still can't put out any real dates for when I'll update my fanfictions, excepting _We Are Golden_. I shall do my very best to meet that deadline!

Have fun!

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She'd been preparing for Christmas, that was what she'd been doing. She remembered now. That was all she'd been doing at the time. Nothing more, nothing less. She'd been baking cookies with her mother. Oh, her dear, old mother! She hadn't known the old woman would come over for a chat and helping with the Christmas preparation at all until the old woman had stood on her front porch, ringing the doorbell. This particular tradition was something she'd taken from the French. France, after all, had been the country where she'd met her dear husband, may he rest in peace.

Fondly, she remembered a time where everything was perfect. Where she was content and her husband beyond elated at the news that she'd be expecting. A son, moreover. Back then they'd been doing something extravagant all week around that special date in memory of when - and also where - they'd met. Be it that they only went to French restaurants all week long and ordered something different to eat everyday, or that they'd dress different, more like the French: extraordinarily elegant. Not, that her dear husband didn't do so every day, anyways. Those times would be _special_.

But when her son had come around; or, rather their _sun_ ; lighting up every single aspect of their lives. Everything had had to change. It was a necessity if one wanted to keep up with a baby and soon-to-be rambunctious and lively growing child. She didn't regret any of that change. Nor did her husband. But those... extravagant dates... had to go. Instead, they'd both searched for a better solution to their problem; they honestly did want to commemorate their very first meeting. So what to do?

The two of them had thought about it a lot and discussed it with each other a great many times, but nothing seemed to stand up to their criteria of implementation. So she'd been beyond happy when one day her husband enthusiastically presented her with a picture-perfect solution. When they couldn't celebrate their first date(s) as a couple, why not celebrate them as a family?

Their son would soon be born and he had a right to celebrate the meeting day of his parents, he'd told her with a conviction that she'd felt, as well. They were already very excited to finally meet their son when he'd be born. Where they'd focused on their life as a couple before, now they'd put the focus more towards the family, he'd said. All she could do was nod in agreement. It was _the_ solution to their problem!

That was why, when the doorbell rang, she'd been standing in the kitchen on the ground floor and been busy chatting with her mother. "... and then you have to get them out of the fridge and put them out into the garden immediately. Wouldn't want them to melt now, would we? - Oh! It seems someone's at the door. Don't worry, go on ahead, I'll keep an eye on our precious treasures!", her mother said with a wink to her.

Both of them already suspected that it was her wayward son coming home from a long day at school. Teenagers nowadays! Really, sometimes she reckoned it was easier to keep tabs on a flea circus than her son! Had he forgotten his keys, again? Why didn't he go in through his room's window, in that case? He'd done that once before, she could remember. And she'd hear her son shouting through the wooden front door already, she knew. So was it someone else, then? Who could it be?

She thought about this a little while going out into the hallway that connected the kitchen with the entryway. Five steps more and she'd already arrived at the door. The spy hole was nigh useless nowadays, what with the days getting dark sooner rather than later in the evening. It was five o'clock and yet the sun had already gone down and it was, for all intents and purposes, in the middle of the night already, if one went by what was visible outside.

The close-by street lamp still hadn't been repaired yet, too. Those, coupled with the fact that whoever rang the doorbell at five o'clock on a Saturday afternoon just before Christmas probably wouldn't mean any of the house inhabitants any harm gave her a calm that she wouldn't have felt right then, had she known just what was in store for her that fateful evening.

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Next she knew, she was on the first floor, hiding together with her mother in her son's room and praying that the older woman would find anything that might hold the attacker off. But looking back at her mother, that hope was dwindling, seeing as helplessness spread all over the older woman's being and body. She was no help, no help at all. However, if she'd let go of that door now, their attacker would surely seize the chance and – at most – fire wildly into the room; at least, her opponent would enter the room, making it all that more difficult to escape any bullets.

She hadn't counted on her son making an appearance, though, nor had she counted on the circumstances being so much against her. As it was, Kaito had decided to climb into his room this day, having her body go into shock for one crucial millisecond. As it turned out, that was all that was needed for their attacker to take the opportunity presented and wrench the door open.

So it was with great shock and alarm that she was left staring up the gun that was pointed at her. Hearing it go off happened in slow motion. First, she'd seen the expression _kill-you-sorry-can't-be-helped_ , then her attacker had changed it; that second expression was by far more alarming than the first one had been, though. Her brain registered its meaning, took it apart and made her open her mouth to - shout, scream, do what? - but by then the gun had already gone off and next she felt was pain.

Excruciating pain spread from her head towards the rest of her body. It was unbearable. At the same time, she felt the adrenaline numb her senses so much so that the pain she'd felt at first was extremely dulled. It could have happened to another person entirely, she'd have felt just the same amount of pain. Shock spread all over her body, making her extremities go stiff on her.

She couldn't move anything anymore. She couldn't do much more than sink to her knees; couldn't control her body any more. Her eyes were stuck in their position, her arms and legs felt heavy, like they'd turned into lead without her looking. The last thing she saw was her opponent pointing the gun towards her own head. With the bang that followed she let the welcoming, beckoning darkness embrace her.

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There was that certain sense of surrealism, danger and alarm that he'd felt at the sight that greeted him upon entering his room. He hadn't had a chance to see if there was anybody else in the house, other than the people that he'd already expected to be there. It had been a surprise to see them both standing and crouching in his room; his grandmother had been going through his things – whatever for? – and his mother was perched against the door. He hadn't expected them to be there, of all places. He'd thought they were engaged in the kitchen, busy cookie-baking and dough-whirling.

He hadn't known they'd gone to his room. He hadn't known that there had been another person chasing them up. The first room he'd entered, after all, had been his room. Then again, Kaito couldn't shake the feeling that God was playing a joke on him. This… this couldn't be his mother lying there, could it? And that person, over there, right in front of the door…? He'd seen her. He knew he'd seen her somewhere before.

It didn't matter.

That… that body. His mother.

Four shots had rung out in the house. Four shots that he hadn't even seen coming. For, when his mother had glimpsed him at the window and opened her eyes wide, those precious few moments had been all that had been needed for her attacker to open the door; his mother had fallen to the floor at first, but then she'd righted herself and crouched, once more, on the tips of her feet. Then the gun that had been pointed at her the entire time had gone off. It had been deafening.

Four times it had gone off.

Then everything went still. He glanced towards his grandmother, afraid that if he took his gaze off her form, his mother would disappear. He didn't want to. Kaito didn't want to. So he needed someone else to. To pretend to be in control. To pretend everything would be ok. To pretend…

Gulping, he directed his eyes once more towards his mother's prone form on the floor. It couldn't be…

This was his mother they were talking about! She couldn't have just been killed – right in front of his eyes, moreover! No... No. _No_.

"Call. Call the ambulance." His grandmother seemingly got herself back under control. Uncomprehendingly, he looked at her again; his gaze farther away than either of them could touch. "The – Ambulance. Now." Her words appeared to leave her mouth on their own accord. She looked almost unbelieving at what they said. "And the police." He didn't respond.

"Kaito!"

That one word, his name, spoken in a voice so like that of his mother was what shook him awake once more. He whipped out his mobile and dialled their neighbour's private number ( _OnlytobeUsedinanEmergency!_ ). He was, after all, a police inspector. Kaito swore he'd never been as relieved as right then that a police officer had picked up his phone call.

"If this is about you breaking into the girls' bathroom at school, I swear you'll-"

"My mum!" Forcefully he'd cut the inspector off. His self-proclaimed uncle had the tendency to go off on a roll before letting anybody else insert their comments. Yet, having said those two words, he didn't know exactly how to go on. So he stuck to something that was known to him. Take a deep breath and calm down. Then tell the person on the other end of the line just what happened. Or, well, what the situation is like now would help a great deal, too.

"She's – dead." The word left a bitter taste on his tongue. "It was a clean head-shot, along with another one to her head and one to her chest. Four gunshots in total." The other end of the line was quiet for a moment, then

"Back up. Where are you, what happened and who's injured?"

His breathing was the only thing being transmitted until he'd composed himself, once more. His grandmother in the meanwhile was kneeling down at his mother's side, staring at her unbelievingly.

"I'm at home. We're at home. My grandmother and I, that is. My mum," a lump lodged in his throat made it hard for him to speak for a few more moments, "she's dead."

"An attacker came into the house, apparently. They…" he trailed off, looking at his grandmother, to see if she was in any condition to answer the phone call herself. Taking in her haggard appearance he deemed that she wasn't, not at that moment, at least. "fought." He couldn't see his mother go down without any kind of fight. The evidence for that could probably be found in the kitchen. "It seems the attacker chased them up to my room. There, she killed mum, before killing herself."

The other end of the line was still, again. So much so, that he almost suspected the line of having been cut prematurely. Nevertheless, it hadn't been and the inspector's voice came through once more soon enough.

"Look. I'm in the area already. Be there in five." With that, the older man cut the line.

He'd gone up and down in front of his bed all the while that he'd stayed on the phone. Now that the line was dead, he didn't know what to do with himself any more. Oh, he knew the procedure following a murder. How could he not, having trailed after Hakuba many times more than his classmate knew of? It was just… this was no ordinary murder, was it? Not, when it concerned him and his family.

Chancing another look at his grandmother's drawn face, he conceded that, well, not when it concerned a certain half of the family, at least. His grandmother certainly never had been subjected to any of their concerns, had she? His grandfather had kept her in the dark about most anything that went on. Even now, his mother had kept up the appearance of them being a "normal family", not yet having the heart to break the illusion. Nevertheless, she'd at least told her son that she'd try to do it, lest it break her own heart. She simply hadn't managed to do so, yet.

His grandmother was as normal as they came, fortunately for her. Their relationship was… complicated, to say the least.

And then there was that woman that attacked them. What would become of her? He ambled closer, slowly. Curious. He realized that he _did_ know her. Wasn't she…?

The front door opening violently ripped him out of his musings. For one eternal moment he had the vision of them being under attack, _again_. Then the inspectors voice bellowed out, shouting something indiscernible.

"We're here – upstairs!" His own voice came out louder than he'd wanted it to at first. His grandmother had flinched at the sudden loudness, he'd noticed out of the corner of his eye. Yet he knew that he wouldn't be able to speak much more for some time to come. Shock, and the ends of grief pulled his shoulders down along with his eyes. They pivoted back towards his mother's body. He went to stand by his grandmother, kneeling down, as well. At his mother's side, he lay a hand on her body. The way that she lay there was unnatural. Her knees bent, she lay on her backside, with her feet underneath her. His hand rested on her left shoulder. Her eyes were staring up at the ceiling, unseeing, blank. Kaito didn't think he'd ever seen anything this scary before.

When the inspector came up and the bodies were tended to, his grandmother and he were accompanied downstairs. On the way, he more felt than saw the blond detective pass him by in a hurry. In front of his house, Aoko was already waiting for him. And that was when he noticed all the police cars with the blue lights flickering this and that way. Even more were arriving at the scene, sirens blazing.

Funny, he hadn't heard any sirens at all until then.

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_**Thank you very much for reading!** _


	2. Vitae Reddata

**Vita Reginae**

**Disclaimer** : Nothing belonging to me, not even much of the plot bunny.

**AN:** This chapter took about a year and a half to get finished. I hope you like it!

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_That… that body. His mother. The way she was lying there, her knees bent and her eyes open, was all he could see, all he could focus on, really. Her body was like a doll's, lying there with her arms following alongside her body, her fingers open as though someone was supposed to put something into her hands in the very next minute. Wide-eyed, he stared at her broken form. He opened his mouth in a last ditch effort to-_

… _and it was then that he noticed how she was moving, moving away, further still, her immobile body becoming slower as the ground beneath it was dragged away even farther by invisible hands-_

His mouth was open wide when he woke up, his jaw tense. He had air in his lungs that he expulsed in a controlled huff; slowly and carefully, as if literally having it dragged out of him by somebody. Then he closed his mouth, relaxing his jaw. Kaito blinked, once, in bemusement. A pair of tears escaped the corners of his eyes to run down his cheeks in silence. His mind wanted to pull back to the forefront the last vestiges of sleep in an attempt to forget, to be in that blissful state in-between wakefulness and dream for just a moment longer. Just so he could simply _be_ , for once. He didn't know how long he was lying there, in that bed, just staring at the white ceiling above him, until he finally decided to get up.

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"NO!" the porcelain vase met its fate by falling to the floor. With a satisfying crunch, the impact split it into a million shards that spread all over the floor close to the back of the sofa. She'd been doing this, destroying various useless and unimportant vases, plates and glasses, for a while now. "No-", a fluffy cushion joined the vase's place of residence on the floor. Fluffy cushions didn't make half of the sound that the silverware made. Throwing them wasn't half as gratifying, nor did their collision lighten her heart any more than if she'd thrown a feather to the floor. But she had to concede that they made less of a mess.

With a grimace, she regarded the unfortunate victims of her most recent burst of anger, denial and grief. She hung her head, half in shame, half in denial of what she couldn't possibly avoid confronting much longer. She'd been her best friend! She couldn't just… have died. Disappeared off of the face of the earth. Left both her son and her mother alone, one to continue her legacy and the other to remember her. It wasn't fair!

Their momentary lodging place was a small apartment that her husband had rented out, as close to Ekoda as it was close to Beika. They'd rushed back to Tokyo when they'd heard of their friend's untimely demise… "No!" the blanket on top of the sofa fell to the floor, roughly. Or, well, in a parody of a rough crash that anything more breakable would have surely not survived.

She was kneeling down now, by the armchair to the right of the sofa, unmindful of the shards strewn all around her. It was a miracle she hadn't hurt herself in the process of destroying half of the inventory. Fortunately, any neighbours were absent for the duration of their presence. The evening light glittered off of the glass pieces and made rainbows appear in a random pattern on the walls. It was a veritable lightshow that she was privy to right then. Yet, she couldn't bring herself to do more than sit there – she could not even make her mouth smile.

Her husband had gone off, most probably to organise and manage things – _the funeral, legal stuff and guardianship issues_ – and here she was, wallowing in self-pity and shame and guilt and… grief. For a friend long gone, a mentor whom she'd continued to rely on, even after her education in acting and mask-making was long over. They'd both had sons, both had them at about the same time, so she could always ask her for parenting advice. Even if her own son was a little bit older, they'd made do and _talked_. Oh, for ages at a time.

And now, this all is supposed to have stopped? Now, there was no one any more, where she once had been able to find a friend and a listening ear for her troubles? What was she supposed to do now? Where was she supposed to go, now that her friend wasn't alive anymore?

The two-room apartment seemed very oppressive now. A sudden noise made her pull her head up so fast that it made her dizzy at first. There, a whooshing sound. The wind? She became a little afraid. A glance at the clock made her worried. Didn't her husband want to come home before five? Hadn't he said that it probably only took six hours to prepare and arrange everything? Who was to have guardianship of the boy, Kaito, now that his mother was gone, she wondered? She couldn't see his grandmother taking over – the poor woman was probably traumatised too much because of what had happened anyways to be asked deal with a traumatised teenager, as well. Besides, she wasn't the youngest to begin with.

So in this case the guardianship was to fall to the appointed party. Them. They'd been appointed as possible guardians in case of… in case something bad happened. So they had a new addition to their family now? Could it really be as easy as that? Fire lit up her eyes. If her husband managed to bungle this up, she couldn't be held accountable for what she would do. But first, she had an apartment to make more presentable, should a sudden, albeit hopefully expected, erm… _guest_ decide to show up along with her husband.

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Four shots. That had been all it had taken for two lives to be snuffed out without reason. Four times had the bullets flown through _his_ room. No. He shook his head. The boy refused to see it as his room any longer. The teenager certainly didn't want to come back to the crime scene once more, his infallible memory was providing him with enough nightmare fodder as it was already.

Four. The number of death. His throat was dry as he thought about that. Macabre, wasn't it? The Japanese superstition had come true. Two deaths had occurred, both less than five minutes from one another. Two women were dead. His mother's funeral had come and gone, Kaito hadn't felt anything other than numb at the scene that had greeted him there: black upon black the guests had arrived to mourn his mother. He'd shaken hands over and over, hadn't even known half of the faces that he'd been presented with that day.

One face, a long-forgotten one that resembled his father's more than anybody else's ever had, had been by his side from the beginning of the funeral until the very end, but even that had more been like a side note in his thoughts than anything else. "My condolences", had been repeated more times than he'd cared to count, he'd dutifully pretended to be made of wood and mechanically shaken each and every hand he'd been told to, nodded to every single person he'd been shown and not uttered a word to anyone that had come. He hadn't thought he'd be able to do that, without-

No. Not going there. The funeral was over now, but that didn't mean that he'd have the freedom or the privacy to do what he wanted to. What he most desperately needed to as soon as he was alone. Breaking down and out in tears directly over the grave – double grave, never more a single one – of his parent _s_ , while probably accepted, was not the way to go, not in his opinion, at least. Definitely not on the day of his mother's funeral.

That aside, the funeral had been a tad easier to bear than he'd thought it would be. The mood was downcast, understandably, and even the weather pitched in its two cents: rainclouds overhung the sky as though they pretended to be a grey ceiling for the infinite room that was earth. Not one drop fell, though. In that, they could say they had been lucky. Or not, depending on whose opinion was asked. Kaito didn't know if his mother might've liked the funeral better had there been rain to mourn her, too.

The guests had scattered as soon as the funeral was over and done with; some leaving pretty much immediately afterwards and others lingering for a bit before going their own ways, as well. Only a small group was left when all was said and done; they gave Kaito some distance to say his last goodbyes in a more "private" setting. The Nakamoris could be found not too far away from the grave, of that he was sure. His grandmother on his mother's side and Hakuba had gone with them, he'd noticed as much. The amateur magician was the only one left.

Ah, no, that wasn't right. That man, the one with that uncanny resemblance to his father, had stuck close, too. He'd been talking to Aoko's father, hadn't he? Kaito wasn't sure if he wanted to know who that had been. But all that was an afterthought at that point in time.

The grave – and the newly-etched-in engraving of his mother's name right beneath his father's – was directly in front of him. His eyes looked down, unfocused, as he took a deep breath and remembered their faces. He closed his eyes. There he saw them: united in death, side by side they stood and waved goodbye with a smile on their faces. At least, that was what he imagined the two of them looking like. Their son hoped that they were happy. Tears began streaming down his cheeks as he cried silently, cried for the lost moments that he'd never more experience with both his parents. At his father's death, his mother and he had each other. Now he was alone. He'd known that moment would come one day; his mother wasn't immortal, after all, and he'd known the day would come that she'd die. The only thing he hadn't counted on was that it might happen sooner than he'd thought it would. Here he was, alone at their grave, barely a teenager, himself. He was alone at last.

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_Four times it had gone off._

_Then everything had gone still. The silence was eerie. He glanced towards his grandmother, afraid that if he took his gaze off her form, his mother would disappear. He didn't want to. Kaito didn't want to. So he needed someone else to. To pretend to be in control. To pretend everything would be ok. To pretend…_

_Yet, the moment that he'd caught a glimpse of his grandmother, it was only to see her on the floor, as well. He started, then he directed his head to the right, to look at her properly. No, she wasn't lying on the floor, as he'd thought. She was kneeling on it, crying, sobbing uncontrollably. When he looked back at his mother, though, it was only to find her gone._

_She' disappeared entirely, only leaving red stains on the floor of his room as proof of her having been there at all. His breath hitched. Where had she gone? Kaito turned to look at his grandmother, once more, only to realise that she'd stood up in the meantime, going to the door. She glanced at him shortly, before going out, leaving him, as well. The room was empty, if not for him standing there all alone. The door slammed shut behind her. He was alone. Utterly alone._

When he woke up, he found that he was covered in cold sweat. The covers of the bed that he was lying on had been thrown to the floor, leaving him shuddering from the cold that had seeped into his body while he hadn't been looking. His eyes were unfocused, replaying the scene in his head. It had seemed so real. It had been real. Well, half of it had been real, the other half was what his brain had obviously thought up, right? His grandmother hadn't gone out of the room to leave him alone when it had happened. He wasn't alone, either. His train of thought was halted for a second. A pause in his thoughts, then he reaffirmed it for himself.

He wasn't alone.

Right?

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The Nakamoris had taken him in for the time being, fortunately for him. They were kind enough to let him be those first few days and weeks, before Aoko badgered him into going back to school about two weeks after the funeral. Life was moving, as it always did, and he'd be busy enough trying to catch up with the homework assignments and study for a retake of the exams that he'd missed. It kept him busy, which was a welcome change to the melancholy, the apathy and the lingering sadness that had befallen the once-energetic boy. Mechanically, he brushed up on the things he'd already studied before the… _event_. That was a good term. It was safe to think. _Murder_ , not so much, because it brought up unwelcome thoughts and images. Oh, the images were the worst.

He'd cursed his brilliant photographic memory more than two dozen times already in the past three weeks alone. And with the images came the nightmares. Kaito hadn't had a good night's sleep since it had happened, but he managed to nick a few hours here, a few half hours there as he mourned his mother's loss, mostly by himself in the Nakamori's house, as Aoko had gone to school during those first two weeks after the funeral. It didn't help that his house was the neighbouring one of the inspector's.

Kaito was avoiding looking directly through the windows that offered a view over his own house – _empty, devoid of life_ – like the plague. He hadn't entered more than once since the funeral and that had been directly thereafter, getting official documents that were needed and putting most of his things in two large bags so that they could be carried over to the Nakamoris, where he had set up camp in the guest room overlooking the inspector's backyard for the time being.

Two weeks was already considered a maximum of time that he had been missing out at school, the headmaster thankfully being a very understanding human being. But it was decided that he couldn't miss out any more of the lessons, what with the end-of-term exams coming up soon, so it was homework that he found himself doing one sunny January afternoon, about a month after the funeral.

Snow was covering the ground outside. Had it been any other year, it would have meant that Kaito would be found playing outside for at least an hour each day. It didn't matter if he was deemed "too old" by most of his neighbours, in his opinion one was never too old for snow games. But it wasn't a normal year, so instead he was inside, catching up on his homework assignments as Aoko was cleaning up. The maths textbook was opened on one side, on the other the English one. This way he could change between the two whenever one was particularly annoying. Never mind the fact that he found homework in general an extremely irritating activity. He was engrossed in the reading of a text in the English workbook when the bell rang.

Aoko was upstairs, close to the staircase that led down to the front door, so Kaito didn't even bother getting up. Indeed, the next thing that could be heard was the muffled _thump thump thump_ of her steps on the stairs, coming down, and the distant _clack_ of the door opening. What was said, though, he wasn't able to make out as the door to the living room was closed in order to give him some peace and quiet to successfully and quickly get through the pile of homework lying beside him on the floor. When the living room's door opened, however, he couldn't help himself and looked up to find out what was going on.

What greeted his eyes was the sight of a by then familiar face. Kudô Yûsaku had been the one helping him work through his mother's official documents, the organisation issues concerning the funeral and the arrangement of the upcoming will reading, after all. The inspector had been a great aid in the beginning, as well, but the one who had stayed with him for every single detail had been Yûsaku-san, seeing as Nakamôri-keibu had the job of a Division Two inspector demanding his attention. Even without Kaitô Kid making an appearance, his work load only took on mountainous proportions as the days rolled by. The inspector had to do a catching-up of his own, Kaito had found out with a vague sense of camaraderie.

Aoko wasn't a qualified adult, either, when Kaito had needed someone competent to take control for at least the first few weeks after the murder had happened. The author had been a godsend, really. The fact that the inspector approved of his choice to provide the author with the necessary insights and control about his life was only the topping of the cake, although Kaito conceded that without it he wouldn't have felt comfortable accepting the writer's offer. Why the author was reluctant about having Kaito meet his wife before the official will reading was a minor mystery to the boy, irregardless. As was the reason behind his visit to the Nakamori's home that day. The will reading would be held less than a week later, so why was the author here?

The reason behind that was made apparent when another head behind Yûsaku was peeking out from behind the writer's left arm, so as to be seen by Kaito. Beautiful long brown locks of hair fell down in lavish waves as the curious expression on the woman's face morphed into a delighted one when her head came fully into view.

"Ah! Kaito-kun! It's been such a long time!" Eh? Did he know the woman? A slightly befuddled glance to the author who regarded the woman with a fond look in his eyes cleared things up at least a bit: Kaito was fairly sure that the woman in question was the writer's wife. The writer hadn't brought up any other woman in conversation so far, so it was a pretty good guess on his part, which was confirmed a moment later as the elder Kudô presented her to him.

"Kaito-kun, meet my wife, Kudô Yukiko. 'Kiko, meet Kaito-kun."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kudô-san." Manners dictated that he stood up in the presence of guests, so he belatedly informed his body of the slight and bowed for good measure once only his feet were left on the floor. The woman laughed affectedly while Kaito blinked in bemusement.

"Oh, you can call me Yukiko-nee-san, Kaito-kun! There's no need for such formality." She winked at him. Right. Older sister, huh? Tilting his head to the left slightly, he considered what to say next. Aoko broke into his contemplations by coming into the room with a pot of steaming tea on a tray.

"Would you like some tea, Kudô-san? I am sorry, but we ran out of cookies yesterday." This was said with a decidedly familiar glare directed at Kaito that was utterly unsuccessful at making him feel repentant for snatching the snacks. Those glares and other familiar actions between the two of them had been the things that had kept him grounded the most, those last three weeks. What on earth would he have done without Nakamoris in the aftermath of his mother's murder?

She directed the couple to sit on the couch that was situated on the far side of the room and Kaito got up to join them there. The small Japanese table where he'd been studying all day wouldn't serve them well in this situation. The living room table where Aoko put down the tray, on the other hand, was a better option for playing host.

The Kudôs made themselves at home in the comfortable couch, as Kaito sat down in the recliner to their left – the inspector's habitual seating choice, but Aoko's father wasn't home at the moment – and Aoko on the padded stool to their right. They smiled at him, before Yukiko took the lead.

"Hello, Kaito-kun. It's nice to meet you, too." A pause. "I wanted to meet with you because I knew your mother." The woman was looking down, obviously a bit lost in her memories. "She was a dear friend of mine and… I knew her very well." With that, she let her gaze focus on him, once more. What did she mean, he wondered? "Now, I know that you don't… that you wouldn't like going back to your house after… what happened, but…" She halted in her speech, going over what to say next in her head before plunging on.

"I would like to… to see – for myself. I… have been told what happened, and I've been to the funeral – you probably saw me there – but… I still… it's not real, for me. Even with the funeral and all… I… I'd like to ask you a favour." It was apparent that the speech had not been planned like this and that she was taking his feelings into consideration even with what she wanted to ask of him. And Kaito was fairly sure that his guess about what she was going to ask him was correct.

"I… could you… would it be alright for you to take me to your house and let me in for a bit?" She pleaded with him, her eyes conveying her feelings better than her words had. Then she looked down again. "Every time I walk past this house – every time I see it or places where Chikage and I met whenever we were both in the country and found the time – I keep thinking that she must have just stepped out for a bit. That she would come back, given the time. That she would be back, and soon." The actress had to gulp there, in order to get the numb feeling to leave her throat.

"Seeing the house – the inside of it… I believe it would help. I am sorry to ask this from you. She has been a dear friend of mine, a close confidante, even, and to have her be out of my life just like that… I think I need the confirmation – that she is really and truly gone – more than anything right now."

Silence followed those words, while Kaito thought about what he'd been told. Before it could reach uncomfortable levels, Yûsaku spoke up.

"I also believe that this might help you, too, Kaito-kun." The teenager looked up in confused surprise. How would this help _him_? "The will reading aside, I strongly suspect that your parents left you their house. It was your home, after all." The author smiled slightly at him, bringing hope to the junior magician along with a fond feeling in his chest. "There are so many good memories that I'm sure you made there, with your father and your mother. I do not think that they would have wanted for you to avoid the place like you've been doing until now." The writer really knew him too well by then if he could say that with such a certainty in his tone. That didn't mean he wasn't right, however. On both accounts. It definitely was something that had been lying on Kaito's conscience more than anything. Just then the knot in his stomach opened. Those words. They were the truth, weren't they?

Didn't all those years, all those good memories eclipse what had happened that one night? Shouldn't they outweigh that single, albeit terrible event? His parents, they surely would have wanted him to… be happy, regardless of what had happened. Would it help him to better cope with that murder if he went back to the scene of crime?

"You don't have to answer now – you don't have to do anything at all, but it would be nice to know what you decide. So, please tell us once you've made up your mind, okay?" All the boy could do was nod at that.

They had given Kaito something to stew over, that was for sure. And think about it, he did, until three days afterwards he'd come to a decision.

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" _If this is about you breaking into the girls' bathroom at school, I swear you'll-"_

" _My mum!" Forcefully he'd cut the inspector off._

" _She's – dead." The word left a bitter taste on his tongue. "It was a clean head-shot."_

" _No, it's not right to break into a girls' bathroom! Gee, I'd have expected you to have learned some manners by now, but obviously I was wrong." The inspector's voice rang out over the phone. But Kaito's head was on a different train of thought, his earlier one having been derailed successfully by the man's words. It was far away and had nothing to do with the elder Nakamori's reprimand, irregardless._

_He should have_ done _something. He knew he should have been able to stop it. Kaito should have done something to help, but instead he'd been just as surprised by the attacker in the room as his mother probably had been, to have run to his room like that._

"…" _He didn't know what to say. Should he say he was sorry? Would that make it better? He couldn't turn back time, either, no matter how much he wished he could._

" _I…" He hadn't meant to surprise his mother. He hadn't meant to be a distraction in the worst possible moment. He hadn't even realised there had been an attacker to begin with, he'd been just as surprised to see the two women in his room as they'd been to see him coming in through the window._

" _I'm sorry. I'll be better in the future." Mechanically, the apology was rattled off. It was an everyday occurrence, wasn't it, him breaking into the girls' bathroom. He'd be better in the future. He'd be more careful. It wouldn't help to bring back his mother, but he'd be more careful. He promised that to himself._

Kaito woke up to tears streaming down his face, his throat closed up and a heavy feeling in his stomach. It felt like he was covered in restraints, the bed covers were too tight, so he liberated himself from the incidental confines and rolled to his side. That morning, he started the day by sobbing uncontrollably into his pillow.

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They were waiting in the Nakamoris' living room. The bell would ring any moment now. Kaito steeled himself, prepared himself for what was about to come. His feet carried him in a by then well-practiced circle over the floor. Fortunately, Aoko had stopped being bothered by that rather new habit long ago already, and only watched him with weary eyes, following his body's way through the living room.

She'd be there, as she'd promised. A brief smile was directed towards her and returned. The Kudôs would come to the house to pick him up and then the four of them – Aoko, the Kudô couple and him – would go to his house and he'd enter it for the second time after the murder had happened. He wondered what would greet his eyes: a flashback of what had happened that night in December or scenes from his time together with his parents? He suspected a bit of both would wander through his mind's eye while there.

He was feeling slightly cold, so he hurried upstairs to get a jacket, after signaling Aoko his intention first. The steps to the guest room were well-known to him by then. He went over to the clothes cupboard, opening it and pulling out one of his lighter jackets, one that he'd be able to wear underneath the coat that he'd put on for the short time spent outside, travelling between the two buildings. His mind was far away, as he was standing right in front of the cupboard. He saw the scene before his mind's eye, as though it had happened that very day.

_Her eyes were staring upwards unseeing, blank. Kaito didn't think he'd ever seen anything this scary before._

The bell brought him out of his musings, startling him badly. So much so in fact, that he let the jacket fall down to the floor. Quickly, he retrieved it and went back to the staircase and downstairs to the front door to greet the guests. Pleasantries were spoken, people herded outside, the front door locked and they were on their way already to the neighbouring building looming in front of them. Kaito's inner eye provided him with the images of police cars, darkness, the car's sirens blazing and the red lights shining in irregular intervals, unusual and extravagant beacons of light that were extremely noticeable amongst the yellowish gleaming streetlights.

The amateur magician had never thought that seeing so many police cars at the front of his house would give him that much comfort. And then they were already in front of his front door and he was fumbling to search for the keys. He'd already prepared them and put them into his right hand coat pocket he knew, but he also knew that he wanted to stall for time, at least for a bit. The teenager needed a moment to prepare himself for what lay ahead of him in his mind.

The couple and Aoko behind him generously gave him all the time he needed, keeping quiet in a show silent support. Kaito was grateful for that. A minute later, and the keys were out. He stuck them into the key hole and turned them. Maybe moving forward by moving back into his former home wasn't such a bad idea, at all. With newfound determination, he put his hand onto the doorknob and opened the door to let them in.

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**AN:** _Dear reader_ ,

Erm, well. Plot bunnies aside, this second addition to Vita Reginae is not quite an as unplanned one as it may seem. In fact, it's been sitting on my computer for a little less than a year and a half now. I'd been meaning to put it out back then already, but life, the universe and everything got in-between my carefully-laid plans, my writing ambition and inspiration, and my creativity in general.

I am sorry to say that I haven't updated more often since this event happened, yet I am hopeful I can get back into writing again now. *smile* For a wound to scab over just takes time, is all. And now it's well on its way to healing and scarring – leaving a scar quite visible, but still unseen – and to my great surprise I found out that I seem to become increasingly more productive the more time passes. Fortunately for you, dear reader, I'd dare to wager. :_)

This second installment of the fanfiction Vita Reginae is, I'm expecting, the last one. I did not plan on writing any more for that one in the first place, so I'm quite surprised this got written at all. Yet, I somehow _needed_ to get this one out, as well. No reason, other than that.

Also, if you find any mistakes, please tell me. I'm not above correcting this fanfiction or to make it better; this second chapter is not perfect – it doesn't feel perfect yet, but I'm satisfied with what I managed to write in this one, at least. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling until I had it out on paper, so I'm happy I could get it out at all.

Hopefully, any nightmares and irrational paranoia will leave me alone now. :_) I've been able to shake them off so well with that first chapter only for them to come back and leave me hanging until I wrote this second chapter… In any case I wish you a nice day!

_**Thank you very much for reading!** _


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